Anything in Return

Fiddlesticks wasn’t in any hurry to get back to the festivities. She was beyond comfortable here, luxuriating in the large shower the Apple family had seemingly purpose-built for groups like theirs. On the hewn stone bench in front of her sat her sister, Apple Fritter, and her fiance, Lavender Fritter. The steam around them billowed and coiled in the heavy air of the bathroom, clinging to the cool stone surface and leaving them slick with condensation.

She always tried to get a shower in the middle of everything; not only was it good to get cleaned up before what was bound to be a messy finale but it was nice just to destress a little. It was… easy to get carried away during nights like these. The first few years saw her overextend in a lot of ways, hurting not just herself but some of the other girls as well with her overeager attitude.

As much as she wanted to launch herself right back into the debauchery, her brain and body both needed rest. What better way to rest than take a shower with a mare she had known since they were both fillies? Apple Fritter seemed truly at peace here, a quiet contented smile across her face as the warm water cascaded down her legs.

Growing tired of merely sitting in the steam, Fiddlesticks pulled herself closer to where the other two mares were sitting. She let out an appreciative ‘oooh’ as the warm water fell down her back. The noise prompted Apple and Lavender both to open their eyes.

“Whatcha plannin’ down there, sis?” Apple’s voice was gentle, nearly hidden by the sound of water hitting tile.

Instead of answering the question that was posed with words, Fiddle reached instead for a loofa and some shower gel. Squeezing some of the rich-smelling stuff onto the loofa, she got to work. Carefully taking one of her sister's hindlegs and resting it on her thigh, she began to scrub with a fastidiousness she never employed in her own showers.

The process was almost meditative, recalling the countless showers taken with her wife Lightning Dust. Dusty was very much a mare focused on raw efficiency, scraping away at any additional seconds available to her during the day. So it was that Fiddlesticks made a point to sit Lightning Dust down at least once a week in their shower to really clean her; to scrub away not just the dirt and grime of the body but of the mind as well.

These long showers became a ritual for the two of them, a way for Fiddlesticks to show her devotion to her beloved and a way for Lightning Dust to learn and accept that sometimes taking things slow was the best way to take them. Fiddlesticks intended on imparting this same lesson, at least in some small way, upon Fritter.

So it was that Fiddle took her sweet time washing her sister, the smell of patchouli and orange filling the air. Once she finished with one leg she turned to the other, scrubbing it clean with the same dedication and tender intimacy. Once Fiddlesticks had cleaned Fritter’s legs, she trailed up the rest of her body.

The pelvic region was cleaned with the same sapphic reverence; devoid of eroticism but charged with an almost overbearing romance. It was with great care that Fiddle abandoned her loofa, washing Fritter’s sheath and balls by hoof. To be entirely honest, it was one of Fiddle’s favorite parts of washing her wife as well.

Lightning Dust was surprisingly jumpy around her intimates, seemingly never expecting even her wife of several years to handle anything down there. Fritter had no such qualms, even going so far as to spread her legs to give Fiddle even better access to those more sensitive areas.

Satisfied with her work, Fiddlesticks pushed herself up on the bench to wash Fritter’s chest and forelegs. Fiddle didn’t miss the envious glances that Lavender was sending their way.

“Don’t worry, you’ll have your turn once I’m done with her.” Fiddle’s voice was playful. “Speaking of: sis, could you turn around? I gotta wash your back.”

Fritter obliged, planting her forelegs on the bench she was previously sitting on. She wiggled her hips, taunting Fiddlesticks. Fiddle, to her credit, simply ignored her.

As Fiddlesticks washed her sisters flank and haunches, she let her mind wander. For all her work as a baker, Fritter had earned a comfortable amount of pudge. Fiddlesticks couldn’t help but lose herself in the way the soap clung to her coat, watching as rivulets of water rolled down her soft body.

“Sis, I think you’ve washed the same spot about four times now. You daydreamin’ back there?” Fritter pressed her rear against Fiddlesticks' pelvis, a rather crude attempt to drag her back to reality.

Fiddle pressed back, leaning across her sister's soapy back as she began washing her shoulders. “Got a lil sidetracked, yeah. You’re pretty hot.” Fiddlesticks punctuated this statement with a kiss between Fritter’s shoulder blades before pulling away, her work finally finished.

“Yeah I am!” Fritter stepped into the running water as Fiddlesticks moved aside, coming to sit in front of Lavender now.

Fiddlesticks found her mind wandering even further as she got to work washing Lavender. Was it right to be doing this? Was any of this okay? To sleep with your sister and her wife, to get up to as much as Fiddle did; was any of it a good idea?

"Fiddlesticks." Lavender's voice was firm but gentle, taking on the tone of a loving mother. "If you keep getting stuck in your own head, I'm going to make you clean me with your tongue."

Fiddle giggled, stretching languidly up Lavender's thigh. "Fine, fine; I guess I'll just tell you what's been eatin' me." To her credit, Fiddlesticks managed to stay focused as she scrubbed. "I just… I guess I wonder if this is all okay. I know everypony says they're okay with it and even Dusty seems pretty enthused – I just worry, is all."

Lavender looked to Apple Fritter and then back down to Fiddlesticks, a sympathetic look on her face. "I worry too sometimes! As exciting as this all is, it can feel… wrong sometimes." Lavender turned her gaze away from both Fiddle and Fritter, opting to stare down at the cool granite wall instead. "It's hard to unlearn the things we've been taught, y'know? If it helps, this kinda ‘free love’ stuff has been a thing since way before any of us. I guess at a certain point modern ponies got an idea of what love was like and just… stuck with it.”

Fiddlesticks nodded in silent agreement. She didn’t really have much else to say; her fears and doubts were still there but she had been given enough room to think for now. The sound of running water, the brush of loofa against a pony’s coat, and the occasional appreciative noise from Lavender were the only sounds that could be heard. This was the sort of respite she needed, knowing the finale of the night was coming to an end.

She got lost in the scent of the mares around her to the extent that she hardly registered the knock at the door.

“Come in!” came Fritter’s voice, shifting slightly on the granite bench.

Cautiously opening the door, Apple Cider poked her head in. “Hey, y’all almost done?”

Fritter looked down at Fiddlesticks, who simply nodded and smiled in response. “Yep! Just give us a bit of time to dry off and we’ll be right down.”